


Lost in the Cycle

by Lovely_Reira



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Bottom!Misaki, I had no idea how to end this, I'll get there one day, Love on Fire was hard enough and that was crack as hell, M/M, Referenced Sex, Top!Misaki, Top!Saruhiko, also, bottom!saruhiko, but for now I just cant, god I love them switching, i have a weakness for Saruhiko being soft while Misaki is sleeping, i wanted to write this though dammit, if you can't tell from this and astronauts, me trying to not write smut while still essentially writing smut, ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 12:01:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14401737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovely_Reira/pseuds/Lovely_Reira
Summary: "If you are going to be out this late you should at least wear a coat or some gloves. Your fingers are all red.""Warm me up then."Aka I'm self indulgent trash





	Lost in the Cycle

A bright light crept in through the curtains of the small room, landing on his closed eyes and making it so all he could see was red. It was impossible to sleep longer like that, but it was probably for the best. He held up his arm to block his eyes from the intense brightness as he opened them, sitting up slowly. There was a familiar soreness in his body that he couldn't bring himself to want to take pain killers for as it would be his only reminder later today that last night had happened.

With a surprising amount of grace, Misaki slipped from the bed and located where his clothes had ended up. The whole process took much longer than he was hoping and he silently cursed his past self for having been so desperate to discard them, though he knew it wasn’t completely his own fault - quickly recalling the warmth of skin brushing against his chest as his shirt was lifted upward. He managed to avoid stepping on the other set of clothes or tripping on the boots that mixed in with his own discarded clothes.

He looked back to the bottom bunk that seemed to have reserved use for their interactions, his eyes lingering on the familiar peaceful face. There was a small tug in his heart that urged him to get back in bed, to hold him close, consequences be damned. He almost lost to the feeling until his trailing gaze landed on the insignia that contrasted so darkly with his pale skin, the mark that would have mirrored his own perfectly if it weren’t for the angry looking burns that permanently marred it. It was enough to remove his rose colored glasses that had made him believe that they could wake up together like some kind of actual couple.

Without any more hesitation, he had grabbed his board which had been left by the door and was gone.

He was surprisingly good at this part. Getting dressed without making too much noise, sneaking out without drawing any attention to himself. The worst part was the trip back to his apartment where he would have time to think about what he had done, to be filled with anger at himself and a dull ache of longing that he couldn’t explain away.

How much longer could they go on hiding what they were doing before someone learned the truth?

Misaki wasn't ready for anyone else to know. He wasn't ready to face the shame nor the questions that would follow.

How long?

Too long. Yet somehow not long enough.

Only a few months, was the proper answer to that. Four months, specifically.

How could something like this happen?

Now that was a longer answer. A much longer one that he often thought back to more than he would have liked to admit to even himself. Even without trying, it was easy to recall.

_His cheek stung from where the razor sharp blade had grazed him before he was able to dodge, it was shallow and had already stopped bleeding, but the pain of it was sharp as it shifted with ever facial expression. The sweat that dripped from his forehead and clung to the back of his neck, making his hair tacky against his forehead (his beanie having been lost at some point), was half from the summer heat and half from fighting. His throat was sore from shouting threats and retorts to the teasing jabs aimed at him. A blade lingered barely an inch from his neck, far enough that he wouldn't be cut unless the wielder wanted him to be. His back was flush against the brick wall behind him and his fist was filled with white fabric, tugging it back to reveal a marred mark that had once connected them._

_Blue eyes, typically cold as the steel in his hand, seemed to dance with amusement. Quietly mocking him. Daring him to make a move._

_He didn't know who actually initiated it. Even now, it was all a haze. Had he tugged at his collar and pulled him close or had Saruhiko leaned down to close the gap on his own? Misaki wasn't sure if it mattered. Either way, he had ended up with lips against his; the final push needed to send a boulder of feelings he had never dared acknowledge rolling._

_The kiss was filled with a mutual sense of desperation, edged with frustration and hurt. The knife was dropped and forgotten, the hand it had been in now on his waist, fingers digging into his skin almost painfully, as the already small gap between their bodies grew smaller. Even when the kiss ended, those lips didn't leave him; trailing kisses down his neck._

_He wasn't sure exactly what overcame him in that moment, but instead of pushing him away, he found his fingers tangled in his hair and whispering a single word._

_"Please."_

_Please stop. Please don't stop. Please stay with me. Please explain things to me. Please hold me. Please don't go away, Please touch me more. Please lov-_

_A million meanings in one little word._

_He wasn't sure how many of them he managed to convey, but those cold blue eyes that seemed to have a newly kindled fire in them met his own again. There was a moment where everything seemed to still as they both searched for something in one another’s gaze, panting softly. No time was wasted after that as clothing was discarded and adjusted. Misaki's legs ended up wrapped around his hips with ankles crossed, holding onto him tightly as they wiped away the line that had been drawn years ago._

Misaki would have described the experience as magical then - ethereal, even. Their clumsy, needy touches didn’t register as such to his virgin mind and any pain or discomfort he did feel was blocked away because it was Saru and him and that was already more than he had ever dared to allow himself imagine.

When it was over, the bubble that had temporarily surrounded them and erased red and blue popped.

Silence filled the growing space between them and Misaki didn’t know what to say. He still never did. Nothing ever felt right. What were you supposed to say, anyway?

‘Hey, thanks for that. Let's do it again sometime when we aren't trying to kill each other or maybe when we are cause wow that was hot?’

Yeah, no. Not happening.

He knew better now. There was nothing magical about hatefucking you ex-best friend in an alleyway while the both of you are bloody and sweaty and your back is getting scratched to hell against a rough brick wall because said ex-best friend decided that you needed to be shirtless. There was nothing ethereal about being left in an alleyway to get dressed without so much as a goodbye, confused about what this meant and if you were the only one who was still pathetically clinging to past feelings. No, there was nothing particularly enviable about his first time except perhaps his partner, yet, somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

The next time he saw Saruhiko, clad in that blue jacket that he had last seen on the ground that alley, they were both surrounded by their fellow clansmen. Saruhiko acted so normally that he would have thought it was all some kind of dream if it weren't for the knife that had been left behind in his rush to get out of there and answer his fellow clansman’s call. It's weight in the pockets of his shorts promising him that he hadn't imagined the whole thing.

It seemed Misaki was right at first, that it was something they would never talk about or do again. He resigned himself to that. Never had he expected that he would have done that kind of thing with Saruhiko in the first place, so it wasn’t like he could be especially disappointed about it. Not when he was supposed to be hating the other with every fiber of his being for throwing away their friendship, for disgracing the people who took them in and gave them a place that they could belong - people to care for and the power to protect them, to protect each other. So he stopped thinking about it. He pushed it to the back of his mind and refused to think about the way Saruhiko’s lips felt on his own or the way he had looked at him like a parched man looked at a spring of water.

Never again would he allow himself to recall the event...that was until a week later when the bespectacled man showed up at the door of his apartment in search of his missing knife.

_"I believe you have something of mine, Mi-sa-ki~"_

_The temptation to close to door on him immediately kicked in, only stopped when the other let himself in._

_"Yeah, just waltz right in. It's not like you don't live here or anything," Misaki snapped at him, closing the door._

_He smirked back at him slightly. "Old habits."_

_Was he trying to piss Misaki off? Well, that was actually pretty plausible._

_"So where is it? I already checked back in the alley and it wasn't there so you must have it," Saruhiko drawled._

_"Yeah, yeah. I got it. Just wait a minute."_

_He walked over to the drawer that he had stashed it in after not getting a chance to return it to him the first time (there was no way he was getting caught carrying it around with him), pulling it out before walking over and holding it out to him._

_Saruhiko took it from him, twisting it between his fingers extravagantly before stowing it away. It made Misaki roll his eyes._

_"Show off," he grumbled._

_"You didn't seem to mind me showing off what I could do with my fingers the other day."_

_For a few moments he forgot how to breathe properly, not sure if he had heard him properly. He stared up at Saruhiko who seemed to be analyzing him, waiting for some kind of reaction from him._

_So they weren't pretending that it hadn't happened?_

_That didn't mean that Misaki had any idea what to say about it or how to react to a comment like that. He was sure that his face was as red as his hair though, something Saruhiko was probably enjoying immensely._

_"Shut the hell up," was the only thing that he could muster._

_That only seemed to fuel him more. "Oh? Are we not supposed to talk about that? I suppose it would probably be pretty embarrassing for you if your precious 'family' found out how you had been crying out for a traitor," he mused. "You must be pretty mad at me for taking your maiden virginity, Misaki~ Had you been saving it for someone special? Don't worry, you can still lose your other virginity to some girl...if you can manage to talk to one."_

_He was taunting him, egging him into a fight. A fight that would surely destroy his apartment and probably get the neighbors to call the cops on him. His limbs were trembling with rage, his hands curled into fists that he wanted to slam into that dumb smirking face. No, he couldn't fight him like that right now. However, he had a new weapon._

_Without hesitating, for if he had he might have realized what a bad life decision he was making and changed his mind, he gripped the front of his jacket and pulled him down, slamming their lips together a bit harder than he had meant to. Their lips parted when Misaki pushed him onto the old couch behind him, coming to stand between his parted legs, leaning forward and bracing with a hand on the back of the couch beside Saruhiko's head._

_"I told you to shut up."_

_Saruhiko seemed taken aback for a few moments, his eyes filled with an undeniable want, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but hadn't yet found the right words. He never gave him the chance to find those words, kissing him once more._

_It seemed that he had finally found a way to stop his never-ending teasing._

_As he stripped Saruhiko's bottoms from him, he became grateful for the bottle of lube that Chitose had jokingly gotten him for his birthday, for once he had retrieved it and shadowed the actions that had been performed on him only a few weeks prior, he had Saruhiko coming undone beneath him._

_His face, which was already far too pretty for his own good, contorted and flushed beautifully with pleasure. That sharp tongue had softened, spilling out moans and whines in place of the typical jeers at Misaki's expense. It was then that he decided that he didn't completely hate hearing his first name being used- at least not when Saruhiko was practically chanting it over and over again like a prayer, broken up with the occasional expletive or plea for more. The latter of which being something that Misaki was more than happy to provide._

Once more, nothing came out of it. There was no sappy conversation or love confession afterwards. No cuddling or pillow talk. Saruhiko had made use of his shower afterwards, but then he was gone.

That wasn't the end of it though. Not even close. They continued to meet up, whether by accident or one of them seeking the other out, and do things that neither brought up when in the company of others. It was like a one night stand. Except it didn't always happen at night and it was reoccurring. There were no complex feelings behind it. Just the need for release and a warm body to achieve it with.

That's what he told himself on mornings like these where the feelings he denied swirled up in him.

"Dammit...why am I even worrying about this?" He muttered to himself with a sigh as he walked into his apartment, beelining for the bathroom so that he could wash himself off.

It was still pretty early when he dried off and changed, but he needed to get over to the bar so that he could talk to Mr. Kusanagi about the plans for Anna's birthday. He had no time to be thinking of him. No. Tomorrow was Anna's birthday and he had to focus all of his energy on making sure that it was a memorable day for HOMRA's princess.

\----------

A memorable day...that's what he had thought. He had wanted to help make it a day that Anna could look back on and smile at. A day filled with presents and cake and family; of red roses and bright candles.

Instead, the only memorable red for her was the blood that had soaked into his clothes, that had been smeared across his face. It was a color that he couldn't shake from his mind. Every time his eyes shut, he was greeted with the tear-blurred memory of Totsuka's weak smile as blood dripped from his lips, closely followed by the look on Anna’s face when they brought him back to Bar HOMRA and all Misaki could manage was a hoarse, shaky ‘I’m sorry, Anna.’

He didn’t know what he was apologizing for exactly. For not being able to be strong in front of her? That she had to see something like that? For having failed to get there soon enough to keep Totsuka from dying? Maybe it was a combination of all three.

He hadn't slept since the night of his death, every time he tried he was awoken by the nightmares. Mr. Kusanagi had offered to get him some medicine that would help, but the last thing that he wanted was to be trapped in his nightmares.

Instead of sleeping, Misaki had taken to going on walks, ambling around the city until the cold winter air made his fingers numb. He'd usually find himself ending up at the park or sometimes at that rooftop. So why...why on this night had he ended up back at that place? The place that he used to share with Saruhiko - where he could come home and not be alone with his thoughts.

He couldn't go in so he simply sat outside the building, pretending for a little while that everything from the point of Saruhiko leaving till now had all been a bad dream. For just a little while, he wanted to sit there and pretend that he had forgotten his key again so he was just waiting for Saru to get home and let them both in. He would chastise him for being so forgetful, rolling his eyes at him. Thing would be normal and tomorrow they would go to the bar and be greeted by everyone. Maybe Totsuka would play them a song. Saruhiko liked listening to music so he might even enjoy it a little bit. Even if he did, he probably wouldn't show it.

"Misaki?"

A voice cut through his delusional thinking and reminded him that he was just sitting outside of his old apartment like a creep.

He turned to look for the source of his name, though he could have guessed who it was without even seeing him. Very few people called him Misaki and that voice was completely unmistakable.

"What are you doing? Have you turned into a stalker?" Saruhiko asked him, his hand on his hip as he stared down at him. For the first time in a while, Misaki was seeing him in casual clothes.

He glared back slightly. "I'm not in the mood to fight with you, Saruhiko." It was true, he just didn't have it in him right now; too sleep deprived and emotionally drained.

There wasn't any response from him for a few moments as he eyed him, merely sighing as he pulled off his coat. He walked over and draped it around Misaki's shoulders before sitting down beside him, clicking his tongue. "If you are going to be out this late you should at least wear a coat or some gloves. Your fingers are all red," he told him, sounding annoyed.

"Warm me up then."

The words just slipped out. He was a little surprised himself when he realized that he had said them out loud, but wasn't going to back out of them now. Before Saruhiko could say anything, he moved in a fluid motion so that he was straddling his lap. He leaned in to kiss him, closing his eyes. Misaki wanted to just forget everything for a little while. He wanted to lose himself in Saruhiko's touch.

When his lips met with the skin of Saruhiko's palm, his eyes opened, filled with confusion and frustration.

"I'm not going to have sex with you right now, Misaki," he told him, staring back into his eyes. He dropped his hand back down, letting it rest on Misaki's outer thigh.

Scowling, he sat straight up. "Why not? Cause we're outside? You've never had a problem with it before. If it's too cold then we can go somewhere else.” God he sounded so pathetically desperate that it sent a pang of disgust through him.

Saruhiko sighed. "Because you don't really want to sleep with me."

"The hell are you talking about? I'm on your lap, aren't I? What part of that points to me not wanting to do it with you? What? Do you want me to beg you to fuck me to prove it to you?" His voice broke, he’d like to believe from anger, but that was a bold faced lie. When he spoke again, it was softer, pleading. Any pride he had was completely gone for the time being. "Please, Saru. I need this right now, I need to not think so please..."

His cheeks had become streaked with wet warmth and Saruhiko's face became blurry. Misaki let his head fall forward, feeling his body start to tremble.

"Please...please..."

Pulling him close, Saruhiko didn't say a word as he sobbed against his chest. In what must have been a first, he didn’t mock him or complain about the mess he was making out of his shirt. He didn’t offer any words of comfort either, but that was okay. It would have been too weird if Saruhiko started whispering sweet words to him, besides, there weren’t any words that could make things better. A million ‘it’s okays’ couldn’t bring Totsuka back and things certainly weren’t okay.

Misaki didn’t need pretty lies right now. He just needed to cry and be weak without worrying about being treated differently afterwards. He needed to forget his position as HOMRA’s vanguard to just be the sad, scared boy who had just lost one of his best friends.

"He's gone, Saru...Totsuka is gone-" he whimpered out, "he died in my arms. I was right there and I couldn't save him."

Saruhiko nodded slightly. “I know.”

Of course he did. If he didn’t know then there was no way that he would be tolerating this right now.

"No one could have saved him. It was too late. No one would have been able to do anything more than what you did.”

He shook his head. There were those pretty lies that he hadn’t wanted to hear from Saruhiko. He wanted only the truth from him, even if it hurt to hear. He got enough of the other stuff from everyone else. There had to have been something more that he could have done for him. He was sure that if Saruhiko had been in his place that he would have thought of something. That he could have done something more than hold him and cry.

"If Kusanagi wasn't able to do anything then what do you think an idiot like you could have done? All you can do now is find who killed him."

Normally, he might have gotten mad at him for calling him an idiot, but for now he just slumped defeatedly against him. He made a good point. Even Kusanagi had been utterly helpless, yet Misaki couldn’t bring himself to blame the older man. Staying where he was, he allowed his fingers to toy with Saruhiko’s shirt as his tears eventually stopped. He breathed in Saruhiko's familiar scent, hearing his solid and steady heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest relaxed him. Nothing was right, but they had always been able to get through things together so maybe they could get through this together too. The weight of his exhaustion began to overwhelm him, his eyelids getting harder and harder to pry back open each time he blinked.

-

Saruhiko hadn't realized that Misaki fell asleep for quite a while. He wanted to be annoyed at him for it, but after having seen the dark circles under his reddened eyes, he knew that he needed it.

He slowly stood up, struggling to do so as he attempted to keep from waking Misaki back up. It took some precise adjusting, but he managed to get him into a position that was comfortable for him to carry and didn't seem like it would rouse him. Though, when Misaki was asleep like this he doubted that even a parade passing by would have disturbed him.

"Damn idiot. Did you have to walk so far away from your apartment? It's freezing..." Saruhiko grumbled under his breath as he carried him. He couldn't even use his own jacket since it was still wrapped around Misaki.

Getting a call from HOMRA's second in command had been the last thing he had expected at 11:30 pm, but he hadn't been able to do nothing after hearing that nobody had seen Misaki for a few days. He had asked him if he had heard anything from him. To any normal person it was probably an innocent call, asking about someone that they mutually cared about, despite Saruhiko’s insistence that he had no reason to keep track of Misaki since he was no longer his babysitter.

Saruhiko knew better than that. Kusanagi had called him because he knew that if he brought it to his attention that he would go and check on him. That Saruhiko wouldn't be able to hold himself back out of fear of what the distraught vanguard would do in his grief. Even if he knew that he was being used he still went to Misaki's apartment and, after not getting a response to his knocks nor finding him inside after he picked the lock, went searching the streets to find him. It was a good thing that he had. Otherwise the emotional idiot probably would have frozen to death.

He carried him back to his apartment, this time using the key that he managed to fish from Misaki's pocket to unlock the door, and set him down on the bed inside. The strained look on Misaki's face once he was out of his arms made Saruhiko's heart do annoying things. He ignored it and adjusted the jacket around Misaki, stripping off his shoes before taking his blanket and pulling it over top of him.

"I'll find his killer for you, Misaki. I may not be able to hand him over to you, but I'm not going to let him get away with it," he said as he tucked him in.

With that, he began his cold walk back to the Scepter 4 dormitory, sending a simple text to Kusanagi saying that Misaki was fine. It pissed him off a little that he had done exactly as he had been expected to. Not only that, but now he was down a jacket...he had really liked that one too.

Well, worst come to worse, he would just have to go back to Misaki's place and get it back sometime. He could think of worse ways to spend an evening.

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me for this self indulgent trash. There were moments that I wanted to write really bad, honestly. I low key love some of the lines in here.
> 
> I've edited this and fixed some stuff to hopefully make it better. There are some parts of this I actually really like, wow. Usually when I reread stuff I've written I cringe, but I still like this. The second flashback is something that I still particularly enjoy.


End file.
